


Teach Me

by The_shadows_of_my_mind



Series: Another Night in the Musain [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Dancing Lessons, Fluff, M/M, No real anything, general cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:49:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_shadows_of_my_mind/pseuds/The_shadows_of_my_mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are always things a young poet can teach a grumpy drunkard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Grantaire asked, stomping up the steps to the loft of the Musain, Jehan following happily behind. The poet looked up at him and snickered, nodding as he edged past the man, darting around the room and moving around the chairs and tables.

“Of course it’s a good idea! What, are you expecting the others to be hidden around the room, waiting to jump out at you?” Grantaire stiffened, looking around the room with a scowl. Jehan laughed, hopping up onto one of the tables and letting his legs dangle off the side.

“So, are we ready to get started?” He asked, tilting his head with a warm smile. Grantaire sighed, shaking his head and running his hands through his hair.

“I don’t know Prouvaire...I don’t understand why I need to learn.” The drunk sighed, pawing around the bar with a soft hum. Jehan rolled his eyes, jumping off the table and grabbing the drunkard’s arm, pulling him away and to the center of the room.

“Oh come on! It’s easy!” The boy smirked.

“But I don’t dance Jehan, and I see no reason to learn.” The young poet rolled his eyes, muttering softly.

“Enjolras was right, you certainly are stubborn.” Grantaire paled, his eyes widening.

“You told Enjolras what we were doing?”

“No, of course not!” Jehan snapped, frowning slightly. “I would do no such thing!” The poet turned away, folding his arms across his chest and sighing. Grantaire could have sworn he saw a storm cloud appear over the boy’s head. The drunk sighed, stepping forward and resting a warm hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Jehan, I’m sorry. It’s just...” He started, but paused when the poet turned with a smile. Without speaking, Jehan took Grantaire’s hands, placing them upon his own waist. Grantaire remained still as the poet placed his own hands on the drunk’s shoulders, a light blush tinting his cheeks. Slowly, Jehan took a small step to the left, and Grantaire followed, tilting his head curiously as he watched the tension slowly drift out of the poet’s slim frame.

“I’m leading then?” Jehan chuckled, freeing his hands long enough to tie back his poorly cut hair. Grantaire nodded slowly, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Jehan laughed softly, setting a steady beat before taking the lead.

Within moments, the two were spinning around the Musain, neither of the pair missing a beat. Not to Jehan’s surprise, Grantaire had in fact lied about his two left feet, as the drunk was keeping pace with surprising ease. After finishing with the quick waltz, Jehan rested his head against Grantaire’s chest, yawning slightly. Grantaire slowed, raising an eyebrow at the poet before shrugging and beginning to sway slightly, his arms wrapping around the boy’s shoulders.

“Grantaire?” Jehan yawned, lifting his head to look up at the drunk.

“Hm?”

“You’re a little liar...”


End file.
